The Call
by petey L
Summary: People say that one phone call can change a person's life. Sam winchester didn't believe that until he got a call from his brother Dean one night that changed everything. This will be AU towards the end sorry folks.
1. It's the End of the World as We Know It

Hey guys. I want to apologize for taking so long to update this story. So while I finish up the latest installment I'm going through and cleaning up this story and making a few edits along the way. Hopefully you'll enjoy this slightly newer version as much as you enjoyed the original. So yeah, thanks to those of you who have stuck with me since the beginning and to those of you who have found me along the way.

_-Petey L_

Sam Winchester heard the phone ringing through the worn old wood door that lead into the apartment he shared with his girlfriend Jess. As he dashed across the room to catch the phone, he paused a minute to check the caller ID. A dark sneer settled upon his face when the caller ID revealed a number he vaguely recognized as one of his Dad's old numbers. He started to walk away as the answering machine kicked in.

"Sammy?" Dean's thin voice echoed throughout the empty apartment and Sam's empty heart as he inwardly cringed at the weak tone of Dean's voice. In the split second it took his brother to say his name Sam knew something was wrong. Dean was a pillar of stoic strength. No matter what, Dean put on a strong front and Sam could hear that front crumbling bit by bit with each labored breath his brother took.

"Sammy please….". Hearing his brothers voice disjared his thoughts and he grabbed the phone, hoping he wasn't too late.

"Dean? What the hell is going on?" was all he could think to say.

"Sammy…." Was all he could make out over his brothers weak shuddering coughs. This was bad, really bad. "Had to hear your voice again Sammy", it wasn't said but Sam could hear _for the last time_ tacked on to the end of that phrase.

"Dean what's wrong? Where are you? Something's wrong where are you?" Sam squeaked out as his throat closed in sheer terror. Time passed slowly as he begged his brother to answer him over the phone. The only thing keeping him glued to this world was the sound of noisy breathing echoing over the phone line.

He was about to call 911 when he heard another voice in the background. "Dean? Dean? Where the hell are you kiddo?" John's gruff voice cut through the air as it got louder and louder on the phone. Sam tried saying something back but no one would answer him. The next thing Sam heard was his father's voice.

He could hear his father's sad sigh as he approached his son and it did not comfort Sam one bit. When he was younger Sam believed his father could fix anything, and to some degree he still did. That child like innocence was just buried beneath years of anger and disappointment. That same hope made a resurgence as Sam prayed that John could do something because he was secretly terrified that he was listening to the last few breathes of Dean Winchester. He could hear his father trying to get some response out of Dean so he tried to attract his father's attention.

"Dad?" he practically screamed into the phone, "Dad what's going on? Is he all right? Dad!" His voiced sounded hoarse in his ears from all the yelling. Sam pressed his ears tot the phone to try and discern what was going on out there.

"God Dean what the hell happened?" his fathers voice said in a concerned tone. It was almost scary hearing the pain in his father's usually stern voice. "Dean come on open your eyes kiddo that's an order! Dean you hear me? Open those eyes!" John continued shouting those words and the occasional profanity.

The gaping slash beneath Dean's bloody and torn up T-shirt looked like it wasn't going to stop bleeding anytime soon. He needed to get Dean out of there and get that sewn up. He contemplated just taking Dean back to the motel and trying to do it himself, but Dean's pathetic attempts at breathing had him worried. He needed Dean to wake up now. He already lost Sam; John couldn't lose his only remaining child.

"Smmy?" came the sluggish, breathy reply to everyone's prayers. Dean struggled raise his eye lids a fraction of an inch and whisper, "Smmy? Whrs Smmy?"

"Hey kiddo thank god! Sammy's not here Dean you know that. He's at Stanford." It almost broke Sam's heart to hear his father say that. His brother was obviously seriously injured. Hell Dean was calling out for him, begging for him and all he could do was listen to his brother's dying pleases. He wanted so much to be where ever Dean was at this moment.

"You okay? Look over here Dean. That's right son; keep those eyes on me. There you go. Keep'em right there. Good boy" John's voice cut off Sam's dismal thoughts.

"He's right here dad, right here" Dean said in a tiny, painful voice. Sam could hear sounds of movement over the phone.

"What the hell? Dean let go of your phone and try not to move okay? Just stay still for a second everything is going to be okay" John's voice sounded on the edge of breaking. Sam heard more movement and resumed his yelling, but it seamed to not be doing any good. Just then he heard his father say, "_Sam" _, oh shit, Sammy! You there?" was all his father could choke out as he brought the phone to his ear. He held it there using the his shoulder and his neck because he needed his hands to try and stop the bleeding

"Yeah dad its me. What happened to him?" Sam managed to punch out.

He heard a heavy sight then his father said, "Its not good Sammy, its really not good. We were hunting this creature that was grabbing hikers up in Peers Park, it think that's kinda by you." Another deep sigh escaped John's lips. Sam didn't think it was possible but his father sounded more weary and nervous than before. "We found tracks going in two separate directions. I went one way and Dean went the other. I followed the tracks for a while but they stopped abruptly so I doubled back to your brother but it already got him."

"Is he ok?" Sam said in a voice a notch above a nervous whisper.

"The thing got him pretty good. His front is all ripped up and bleeding everywhere, and his left leg looks pretty messed up too" That last phrase was almost inaudible but Sam heard every word of his father's trembling voice.

"Dad, where are you?" Sam barely recognized the hard edge in his voice.

"Stay put Sammy. Ill take care of this." Was John's near instantaneous reply.

"No dad. He needs me!" it came out s a half sob, half threat but Sam hoped it would do the trick.

A deep silence filled the air for a few seconds before John replied, "Alright, I'm going to see if I can get him into the Impala and take him to the nearest hospital alright? Ill call you back when I get there. How's that sound Sammy?" God, he hated that nickname but he would let it slid for the time being.

"All right I guess. Peers Park is actually really close to me. Are you sure you don't need any help? I could be there in like 15 minutes." Sam was desperate to try and help his brother. Dean had protected and taken are of Sam his entire life, and Sam felt the need to return the favor.

"Hey kiddo we need to move you alright? Think you can move Dean?" John tried to say this in his calmest most soothing voice. God, when was the last time he ever spoke to Dean like this? The last time that came to mind was when Dean was six and was convinced that monsters were hiding in the bathroom because their shitty motel didn't even have a closet for them to hide in. Dean was always the stronger one of the two boys and it was killing John to see his little boy so ripped apart like this.

"I think so, yea." Came Dean's faint reply. He was barely there but he would do his best to hang on. He had to follow his dad's orders, and Sammy was there too. He couldn't let Sammy see him like this, all weak and whatnot. He was probably freaking out already and it was his job to keep Sam alive and happy. Without even thinking he mumbled, "Don't worry Sammy everything's gonna be k."

Even when he was hanging on by a thread, Dean still tries to protect me Sam thought as he grabbed his gear and raced to the door. HE still held the phone in a death grip to his ears. He couldn't physically be there for dean, but he was going to do his best to offer some kind of support for Dean. Dean needed him and Sam was going to help whether John wanted him to or not.

A cool wind picked up as John tried his hardest to stop the bleeding. Dean was hanging on, but he was losing his son fast. Dean's eyes slipped shut momentarily and John yelled, " Come on Dean stay with me kiddo. Keep those eyes open, that's an order!" John let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding when Dean's eyes snapped open and stared at him. " Alright kiddo ready to go?"

"Yea I think so" was all Dean could manage. He was so tired. Why was he tired? It wasn't even that late. All he wanted was to close his eyes and go to sleep but then his dad would just yell at him again, and nobody wanted that. It would probably freak Sammy out too so his eyes were going to stay open for as long as possible.


	2. We're not out of the woods yet

"Okay here we go kiddo" John tried to lift Dean slowly into a sitting position.

A gasp filled with pain escaped Dean's lips and his eyes shut tight against he pain. It was just sitting up, it shouldn't be this painful. His chest felt like t was on fire, and his head swam through a sea of muddy colors blending into a spinning mosaic.

John waited for Dean to steady himself. He could only imagine the amount of pain Dean was in. His whole chest was a mix up of deep gashes (which to John's dismay were still bleeding) and bruises. A couple of rips seemed to be broken judging by the amount of trouble Dean was having with breathing. Not to mention the fact that Dean had been laying on that cold damp ground for god knows how long and was probably going to get pneumonia.

"Hey dad where exactly are you guys I got a car and I'm headed your way." Sam's voice cut through John's thoughts and he stopped to consider this for a moment. He had no clue if Dean killed the creature or if he had just scared it off. Dean wasn't a little boy any more. It was going to be pretty tough tot get dean into the Impala and fight off the monster if the situation called for it.

Finding the phone again John replied, " Alright Sammy where exactly are you? We're about half a mile in from the west gate."

"The west gate, alright I'm right outside the north one so ill be thee in a second. How's Dean dad?"

"Not to good kiddo" was all John could manage. He had to get Dean moving. He was fading fast, and John could tell Dean needed to get to a hospital sooner rather than later. He switched his grip on Dean so he was facing dean, holding him under the armpits. "Alright Dean this may hurt a bit all right?"  
"Can't be worse than your cooking" Dean managed to reply. His father was defiantly scared and if he was scared then Sammy had to be downright terrified.

Both Sam and John gave a brief chuckle at Dean's answer. _Leave it to Dean to try and make jokes when he's bleeding to death_ thought Sam. Just then the midnight black Impala became visible under his headlights. He rushed up the car, popped the truck and grabbed a sawed off shotgun. He also tucked his favorite revolver into the back of his jeans.

Somehow dean was standing. John still had no clue how Dean managed to stay upright. He had lost a ton of blood, and something was defiantly wrong with his left leg. Dean wasn't even trying to put weight on it. All that matters was that he was standing. Now all John had to do was get Dean across a half of mile of dark forest terrain, which was possibly hiding the deadly creature that did this to dean. John bent down to pick up dean's gun and said, "Still with me Dean?" A slight head nod told john all he needed to know. "We've got to get you back to the Impala Deano. Lets try and walk okay?"

Under the dm flashlight beam Sam could see the tracks his dad had been mentioning. He looked closer and saw the footprints that diverge with the tracks. The trail to the right was run over by a set of frantic footprints that looked about the same size as his father's old boots. Sam started running in that direction, keeping an eye out for John and Dean.

It was slow going with Dean the way he was. John was keeping him upright as dean struggled to take each step, and each breath. "God, this can't be good" John thought as Dean's head flopped against the inside of his shoulder. Dean was never like this. When dean was accidently shot in the gut on that werewolf hunt in Montana, he had forced himself up and had managed to walk about a good quarter of a mile towards John and Sam before collapsing face down in the dirt. What is up with him?

"S' really c-cold dad. Tired" that was the first thing Dean had said in along time. _Crap that's gotta be the blood loss kicking in_ thought John.

"Sorry kiddo, we've got to keep moving. Got to get you home okay?" John couldn't tell if that was dean nodding his head or if Dean's head just drooped momentarily. He really prayed it was the first one. Just then an eerie light appeared ahead of them. Whatever it was, it was moving towards John and he needed to protect dean. He pulled out his gun and raised it to eye level as he tried to pull Dean to the side, putting himself in between his injured son and whatever was coming towards them.

Sam thought he was another flashlight beam behind some trees up ahead of him. His heart skipped a beat a he approached his brother. _God I hope Dean is still alive _Sam silently prayed in his head. He darted past a tree and saw his father with his gun raised. "Dad it's me!" Sam called out.

John lowered the gun as his youngest son rushed towards him. He was going to need all the help he could get. His shoulder was killing him, and he was tiring out pretty quick.

Sam rushed up and just stared at Dean for a second. This was not how he pictured his brother would look for the first time they had seen each other in about three years. Dean's head was hanging limp against his cheat. That same chest that was coated with blood, and was barely rising with each of dean's pained breathes. "God, Dean" was all he Sam managed to say. It just wasn't right Dean shouldn't be looking like this. He then turned his eyes to his father. The last time they left, things hadn't ended so well. Okay fine, they ended horribly but for now John just looked happy to see him. Sam saw the tired pain expression his father wore and moved closer to try and pick up some of dean's weight. It was that moment when he noticed his father's blood covered hands. _Covered in Dean's blood_. Just the thought sent chills down Sam's spine.

"Sammy I think we should try and carry him. He can't really walk."

"Okay I'll gab his feet" Sam reached down and grabbed Dean's mud covered boots and stared up at his father. He had expected a blast of anger, or some kind of hate but this was totally different. All he got was fear, concern, and a tired resignation begging him to let things go back to the good old days when they hunted as a family.


	3. You okay?

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

_Seriously Dean since when are you this heavy?_ Carrying his limp brother over a quarter of a mile of dark, unfriendly terrain was not exactly Sam's idea of fun. But this was Dean, his brother, who had saved him so many times Sam had stopped counting. No matter what, Dean was always there for him, and Sam was going to do his best to be there for Dean. Even if it did mean giving up a night being warm in bed, snuggling with Jess.

_Jess- sorry to leave on such short notice but I have a family emergency to take care of. Be back later tonight, maybe sometime tomorrow. Love, Sam_ That was all he could think of to say. _God I hope she buys it._ Jess knew just how much Sam thought of his family, and leaving in the middle of the night to go help some people he hadn't spoken to in years might sound weird. He would have time to worry about that later, because right now Dean's glassy green eyes were staring right through him.

"Smmy?" the words were barely audible but Sam heard every slurred word that tumbled from Dean's lips.

"Yeah, man it's me. Don't worry Me and Dad have got you. You're going to be ok," Sam tried his best to reassure his brother.

"Don't need to worry Smmy m' fine. Just put me down." Sam almost chuckled at his brother's halfhearted attempts to make him feel better_._ _Dean could be dying and here he is worried about me. Typical Dean, he'll try his hardest to save everyone else no matter what it does to him. One of these days it's going to get him killed._

Sam's mental rant was cut off by Dean, who had gone into a coughing fit. His body was shaking with effort as he desperately tried to clear his lungs and draw in a gulp of air.

"Set him down for a sec Sammy. We need to keep him breathing," John instructed as he slowly lowered the persistantly coughing form of his oldest son to the ground. "Come on kiddo, in and out. There you go. Come on just breathe. Not too hard. Come on you can do it, in and out." _When's the last time I had to do this? _John wondered arbitrarily. _Then again when was the last time I was around when Dean was this hurt? Dean and Sammy always took care of each other, no questions asked. Hell of a way to learn to pay more attention to my kids._

"Smmy," Dean managed on one of the tiny mouthfuls of air he was pulling in between coughs, "Thought you were at college." This new round of coughing brought up something other than air. John pointed the flashlight at Dean's face and saw the crimson flecks coating his son's lips. He was just in time to see Dean's eyelids slide closed.

"Oh shit, oh shit! Come on Dean, open those eyes. Come on now kiddo, open up those eyes!" John chanted trying to bring his near dead son back to life. When that failed John barked, "Dean goddammit open your eyes! That's an order!"

A few seconds later, Dean's long lashes fluttered against his too pale cheekbones. His glassy green eyes fluttered about for a few seconds but finally came to rest on Sam. "That's it kiddo stay with me now," was all the encouragement John could think to offer. Dean's unwavering stare never left Sam. It looked as if Dean was trying to decide if Sam was really there, or just a figment of his dulled pain, and oxygen starved brain.

This was the first time Sam really got to study his brother. He was a mess from head to toe. He was wearing worn out work boots that looked like they should have been thrown out years ago. Next came a staple of his brother's wardrobe; a pair of baggy, ratty jeans that even Good Will probably wouldn't take. His eyes briefly stopped at the ragged hole in Dean's left thigh. The edges of it looked angry and he could vaguely see something dark and reddish reflecting the moonlight inside the denim hole. Come to think of it, a stream of that same liquid seemed to be traveling down the inside of Dean's leg and staining his boots. _At least now he'll have an excuse to get some new clothes. God knows he needs them._ Sam almost laughed at the thought but he felt himself blanched as his eyes casually glanced at Dean's chest. What was once an old 'Stones t-shirt and a red flannel over shirt was now a gaping hole and a mass of dirt, blood, and pain. Sam couldn't take his eyes off his brother… that is until he heard the sound.

An eerie rustling sound danced through the trees surrounding the Winchesters. It seemed to be circling the huddled group of hunters. A swift cackle arose from the creature as it moved in closer. John's hunter senses kicked into overdrive and he went into combat mode.

"Sam, give me your gun and get your brother into the Impala now!" he barked at his younger son.

"But dad-" Sam started.

"Now Sam! Dean doesn't have much more time, and I need to kill this thing now! Go!" came his swift reply.

Sam mumbled a hasty "Yes sir" as he hoisted his limp brother on his back in a fireman's carry and took off as fast as he could towards his home away from home. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed that John was following him, guns drawn.

The creature continued to circle, closing in with every pass. Sam could have sworn he felt the creature zip past him on his mad dash for the car. Sam ducked instinctively as he heard the roar of a shotgun behind his head. Then came the fierce roar of an injured monster bent on revenge.

"Dad!" Sam cried as the creature flew over his shoulder making a beeline for his father.

"Keep going Sammy! I'll handle this. You get your brother safe!" came John's hasty reply as the monster bore down upon him with all its remaining wrath. Of course he couldn't get a good shot off when he needed to. The silver bullet missed the kill zone and had merely wounded the creature. Now John was going to have to deal with the consequences.

John took a quick glance to make sure Sam was out of range, cocked the rifle, and turned to face his attacker.

"No one messes with my boy and lives you sonabitch!" he growled at the approaching creature.


	4. Brawl

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Thanks again to my beta and to all you guys for your stellar reviews. Chapter 5 is done and will hopefully be up soon!**

The creature let out a howl, eerily reminiscent of a maniacal laugh. It dived forward directly at John. He got a shot off as he rolled out of the way, merely wounding the creature. _Damn it! I need to kill this thing fast! I can't let it anywhere near Sam or Dean!_ It came at him again, but this time he was prepared. He leveled the shotgun, and waited for the creature to float into his sight. It took maybe a second for it to move into position, and John pulled the trigger.

The bullet ripped through the creature's thick hide like a knife through warm butter. It let loose a blood curdling primordial scream, and made a mad dash for the tree line. John gave chase but lost the creature in the Forrest._ I took a good chunk out of that thing. I don't know if it's dead, so I have to stay alert_. These thoughts ran through his mind as he ran towards Sam and Dean, all the while hoping his oldest was still alive.

Sam was quickly beginning to realize that holding up a gun and carrying a 6'1 210 guy wasn't as easy as it sounded. Hell, not that it sounded that easy to begin with. It was slow going seeing as how he was half carrying, half dragging Dean's slumped form through the ever-darkening McArthur Park. They had almost made it to the Impala when the shotgun blasts ricocheted through the trees. Sam's heart dropped to his feet as he imagined all the horrible things that could be happening to his father.

Out of nowhere, Sam heard Dean whisper, "Don worry Smmy. Dad's gonna b ok. Jus' don't worry." Sam choked up at the thought. _Dean's practically bleeding to death in my arms. Hell, he's got to be in a shit load of pain and he still tries to make me feel better. God I ignored most of his calls and I've barely talked to him in two years and he still tries to protect me._

"Yeah Dean, Thanks,'' was all he could manage to reply.

Sam was lost in another introspective rant when the Impala came into view; it's pristine, gleaming black exterior, blending in effortlessly with the night. Sam picked up the pace, desperate to grant his brother some form of comfort. Dean had been ominously quite, with the exception of his comforting words. His breathing still came out as rattling, desperate wheezes, and his left leg still dragged through the damp earth. They reached the car in a few quick strides of his long legs. Sam rested Dean's limp body against his shoulder, and set the shotgun down for a second as he reached for the cool metal of the door handle. The creature chose that moment to make a move.

Dean had been in and out of consciousness for the better part of the trip to the Impala. Seeing his baby waiting for him put a smile on his lips, and he perked up a bit, just enough to notice something was headed their way._ The creature? Did Dad kill it? I thought I heard gunshots. Dad never misses though. I've got to warn Sammy!_ Dean opened his mouth and tried to warn his brother but his oxygen starved lungs refused to comply. The only thing that came out was a weak cough that earned him a concerned Sam stare. God how he hated those. He was supposed to be the worried one, not the other way around. He took in as big as a breath as he could manage (which was not a lot) and tried again. This time he managed to say, "Smmy eight o'clock," then he coughed a few more times.

Dean's halting whisper drew Sam's attention. He spared a quick glance to his 8 o'clock and sure enough he creature was advancing. It had a bullet hole clean through its chest, just centimeters off of a kill shot. _That thing looks pissed, really pissed_ Sam thought as he attempted to lower Dean to the ground and grab the shotgun at the same time.

The creature was quicker than he was. He managed to raise the gun in time and let off a shot, clipped the creature. Dean had fallen to the ground in a breathless lump. Sam spared him a glance, but he seemed to be as good as was possible with his current condition. He also saw his dad running up the hill towards them with his gun raised. Sam felt a little better knowing he was not alone in this fight but he was still scared.

The creature pounced on him quickly, and Sam just managed to get off a shot. Unfortunately for him, he was too late and the shot went wide. It grabbed his arm and hoisted him up into the air. Its claws digging into Sam's wrist, and a trickle of blood ran down his arm. The shotgun slipped from his lax grip as he let out a cry of pain, the creature dropping him to land right at Dean's feet.

John had charged at the beast the second he saw it grab Sammy. Every brain cell screaming at him to kill the thing. _No way in hell am I letting that thing hurt my boys more! I have to kill it now or else we're all in trouble!_ John tried to line up a shot, but the creature had been dangling Sam in his line of sight. With a frustrated groan John lowered the rifle a millimeter and tried to get a better angle. Every time he moved, the beast moved, using his Sammy as a human shield. _That's it! That piece of shit is dead meat!_ Flew through his mind as he tried to line up another kill shot.

The broken ribs Dean didn't realize he had, jarred with the impact from the ground. For some reason it became a lot harder to breathe. It took him a full five minutes of just laying there, to finally catch his breath. He tried to move but that sent shooting pains through what was left of his chest. He looked down at the grass beneath his stomach and notice that it was a suspiciously darker, crimsonesque color in the moonlight._ Aww fuck, this is so not good!_ He tried to call out to Sammy but when he opened his mouth, all that came out were weak gasps for air and a painful bought of coughs. He was focusing on just trying to breathe, when he saw the creature grab Sam. A jolt of adrenaline rushed through his body as he switched effortlessly into the protective older brother mode that had served him so well over the years. As luck would have it, the shotgun landed at his feet. _This thing must be one stupid fugly. It's standing with its backed turned to me. How stupid is this thing?_

Dean managed to grab the shotgun then began the arduous task of raising himself to a sitting position. His vision clouded over from the massive sparks of pain emanating from his chest. He couldn't figure out where the pain was coming from but it was overwhelming. When he finally was sitting upright his leg decided to join in on the agony, and that was just too much. He had a high tolerance for pain, but this was just pure torture. Blackness swirled around the edges of his vision, while the conscience part of his brain wished it away. _Stay awake Dean! Sammy is in trouble! He needs you! You have to protect Sam at all costs!_ Sam's gasp of pain drove the blackness away and Dean was left with an eerily clear focus. He raised the gun, and took his shot.


	5. Help!

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

The gunshot echoed off the trees as Sam stared incredulously at the creature. Its eyes were wide with pain and shock as it began to fall forward. Both Sam and the creature hit the forest floor at the same time. Sam managed to worm his way free and sat on the ground examining his wrist. It had a few punctures in it that bled sluggishly. He would need a bandage, or a few stitches at most. His eyes floated over to the creature that was now lying dead beside him.

John's voice broke the silence as he reached for Sam and said, "You okay kiddo?"

"Yeah, dad thanks for that," he replied as he easily pulled Sam to his feet. He seemed content as his cursory examination resulted in the same conclusions Sam had made.

"That wasn't me kiddo. You were blocking my shot."

"And we all know it wasn't you Sammy, your aim sucks ass," both Sam and John's heads whipped around at the reply.

Sure enough dean was resting, with his eyes half open and a gun across his lap. He was leaned up against the passenger side door of the Impala, breathing heavily. Sam noticed slight tremors run up Dean's arms as his brother sat there on the cold hard ground catching his breathe.

John was the first to break the silence. "Well now that that's all taken care of, let's get you out of here Dean." John slowly walked past his younger son who was obviously bleeding and stopped right in front of Dean. "Alright kiddo think you can stand on your own?"

Dean seemed to ponder question for about a good minute before he opened his mouth to try and reply. He seriously doubted he had the air to do that though. For some reason he was having a really hard time breathing. Not a good sign. John seemed to notice the trouble Dean was having, because he reached down and grabbed Dean by the arm. He slowly brought Dean to a standing position. _Shit! Shit! Shit! _That seemed to be the only coherent thought Dean was capable of forming. His head spun, and his vision blurred. When he finally standing he leaned heavily on his dad, masculinity be damned. He was in some serious pain here. Another unfortunate fact was that breathing was harder standing up, which he was doing right now. He tried to tell his dad this but all that came out were some deep wet coughs. Dean tasted the coppery taste of blood in his mouth, and doubled over as his starving lungs attempted to draw in a desperate gulp of air.

"Dean? You okay man? You're scaring the crap out of me" That was all Sam could think to say as he rushed over to help support his brother. Something was seriously wrong with Dean. Sam could tell he was barely breathing, and he was coughing up blood. That was one hell of a bad combination.

"Sam help me get your brother in the Impala now." John tried to say in a calm voice. Unfortunately his voice sounded like a mix between a terrified kitten and a drill sergeant.

Sam ran over to the Impala and opened up the back passenger door. Eh then went back over to his dad and helped him manhandle Dean into the back seat. Dean fell into the faded leather seats with an audible grunt. His eyes were only open half way and his thin mouth was open. He looked like he was trying to say something, but his lips just moved soundlessly. He wasn't making that gasping sound every time he tried to breathe, but he was still a mess. The pool of blood on the inside of his jeans was growing bigger, and his chest was still a mess. Blood flecks coated dean's lips, and somehow the tips of his short spiky strawberry blonde hair had been dyed a bloody red.

John made sure dean was comfortable then slammed the back door. As he moved towards the driver's seat he said, "Thanks for the help Sammy." All the while his gaze remained on dean, or some arbitrary spot on the ground. He wasn't ready to stare Sam in the eyes. Tonight had bridged part of the gap they had destroyed years ago, but they still had a ways to go.

"No problem Dad," That was all Sam could think to say.

"Have fun at college kiddo" he said as he lowered himself into the driver's seat and the engine roared to life. Sam hadn't realized how much he missed that familiar sound. It practically defined his childhood. Sitting in the backseat of the Impala playing games with dean, or listen to their collection of old rock tapes. God only knows how many times he heard each of those tapes. Every time he heard one of those songs he could almost smell those old leather seats and hear the roar of the Impala's engine.

"Wait, I'm coming with you." Before John even had a chance to argue, Sam slid into the front passenger seat.

"All right kiddo," was all John said. It was nice to be together like a family, but he had more important things tot think about. He had to get Dean to a hospital. He turned his eyes to the road, and drove off into the night. The Impala blasted down the road at a speed that was defiantly over the limit. John's mental peace was broken by Dean. He watched his oldest in the rearview mirror as he rode out another coughing fit. This time it brought up more than a few flecks of blood. He quickly flicked his eyes back to the road, refusing to think about the possibility of losing his son. He had already lost one son, and he was not letting this one go without a fight.

It took John a minute but he finally said, "Sammy where's the nearest hospital?"

"Umm, its about 5 minutes away, here take this right and it should be on this road a ways down on your left."

"Okay."

Their conversation was at a bare minimum. Both of them were terrified for Dean who had slipped into unconsciousness. Driving as fast as he was, John made it to the hospital in three minutes. Sam ran inside to get help as John checked to make sure his son was still alive. Dean was barely breathing, but he had a heartbeat and that was all that mattered at this minute. A second later he was pushed out of the way as the ER staff rushed in and got dean on a gurney.

The last time Sam saw his brother, he was whiter than the sheets lining the gurney, and a member of the staff was shouting, "He's not breathing!"

Sam grabbed Dean's hand and followed the hospital staff as they rushed what was left of his brother inside. Dean was just laying there on the gurney, letting somebody else breathe for him. It was something that would stay with Sam for the rest of his life. His first memory of his brother was Dean smiling at him; he didn't want his last memory of his brother to be what he just saw.

Sam tried to run through the grey double doors with his brother, but a nurse stopped him. "I'm sorry sir, but you can't go back here, there's a waiting room down the hall. Someone will come find you when you can see him again," she said. Without giving Sam a chance to object, she crashed through the doors and ran after the medical team leaving Sam to stand there in depressing horror. He was still standing there was John approached him.

"Come on kiddo there's nothing more you can do for him now. You've been through this before, now all you can do is sit and wait," John replied in weary resignation. He knew that waiting was the hardest thing on Sam. That kid hadn't been able to sit still for five minutes without getting his nose into something since he was five years old. John was damn near pushing his luck by hoping Sam would sit and wait to learn the fate of the one thing he truly cared most about in this world.

"Okay dad." John could make out the broken tone to his sons voice. It nearly killed him to see his son this way. He started hunting to protect them from all the evil in the world, and now it had caused such pain to his youngest.

Sam allowed himself to be guided to the waiting room. It was just like all the other hospital waiting rooms he had been in his life. The walls were painted a generic light blue that was supposed to be "soothing". _Soothing my ass. It's totally depressing. Blue is the color of sadness and tears, not the right color to choose for a room of people waiting to hear if their family member was dead or not._ He sat down in one of the plastic chairs and let a sig escape his lips. He had been in enough hospital waiting rooms to know what to expect. Even so, it never got any easier, and those chairs never got any softer. The gentle sobbing from the crying wives and children never got any easier to listen to, and the broken looks on his family member's faces never got any easier to look at. He sat there lost in silent contemplation for the first hour before he finally broke the ice.

"Sow hat were you guys hunting?" he asked in a hushed tone.

John sighed, rubbed one of his large, callused hands over his face then answered, "It's called a Husginkle, they're pretty rare. You've probably never heard of them. Basically this nasty son a bitch was grabbing hunters from McArthur Park, so Caleb gave me a call to see if I was interested. Dean was taking care of his own job upstate; so he finished up then meet me down here. Apparently those things are notorious hunters, and only come out at night. The authorities though they were bear attacks, but obviously they weren't.


	6. Good news and Bad news

Hey everybody. Sorry for the long update time but life got in the way. So yeah, here's the new chapter. I'll update it when I hear back from my beta. Thanks for reading. Again I own nothing (sigh).

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Sam grabbed Dean's hand and followed the hospital staff as they rushed what was left of his brother inside. Dean was just laying there on the gurney, letting somebody else breathe for him. It was something that would stay with Sam for the rest of his life. His first memory of his brother was Dean smiling at him; he didn't want his last memory of his brother to be what he was seeing.

Sam tried to run through the grey double doors with his brother, but a nurse stopped him. "I'm sorry sir, but you can't go back here, there's a waiting room down the hall. Someone will come find you when you can see him again," she said. Without giving Sam a chance to object, she crashed through the doors and ran after the medical team leaving Sam to stand there in depressing horror. He was still standing there was John approached him.

"Come on kiddo there's nothing more you can do for him now. You've been through this before, now all you can do is sit and wait," John replied in weary resignation. He knew that waiting was the hardest thing on Sam. That kid hadn't been able to sit still for five minutes without getting his nose into something since he was five years old. John was damn near pushing his luck by hoping Sam would sit and wait to learn the fate of the one thing he truly cared most about in this world.

"Okay dad." John could make out the broken tone to his sons voice. It nearly killed him to see his son this way. He started hunting to protect them from all the evil in the world, and now it had caused such pain to his youngest.

Sam allowed himself to be guided to the waiting room. It was just like all the other hospital waiting rooms he had been in his life. The walls were painted a generic light blue that was supposed to be "soothing". _Soothing my ass. It's totally depressing. Blue is the color of sadness and tears, not the right color to choose for a room of people waiting to hear if their family member was dead or not._ He sat down in one of the plastic chairs and let a sig escape his lips. He had been in enough hospital waiting rooms to know what to expect. Even so, it never got any easier, and those chairs never got any softer. The gentle sobbing from the crying wives and children never got any easier to listen to, and the broken looks on his family member's faces never got any easier to look at. He sat there lost in silent contemplation for the first hour before he finally broke the ice.

"Sow hat were you guys hunting?" he asked in a hushed tone.

John sighed, rubbed one of his large, callused hands over his face then answered, "It's called a Husginkle, they're pretty rare. You've probably never heard of them. Basically this nasty son a bitch was grabbing hunters from McArthur Park, so Caleb gave me a call to see if I was interested. Dean was taking care of his own job upstate; so he finished up then meet me down here. Apparently those things are notorious hunters, and only come out at night. The authorities thought they were bear attacks, but obviously they weren't. Found out iron rounds kill the damn things so we went at it. You know the rest."

"Okay," was all Sam could manage in reply. Over the next three hours Sam desperately wanted to ask his father about their lives without him. Although he would never admit it, he was genuinely worried about his family. No matter how much they pissed him off, they were his family, and they were all he had. Sam could almost here Dean laugh and say, "_Sorry Sammy, can't pick your family. Guess you're stuck with us!_" Sam wanted to ask, but the words couldn't get passed the lump in his throat that formed every time he thought about Dean. _This never would have happened if I had been there to protect him. _That was all Sam could think. He knew he had no right feeling guilty, but that didn't stop the thoughts from creeping into his head.

Originally, John had been sitting in one of those uncomfortable chairs next to Sam._ God, that kid looks ridiculous. He's huge and these damn things are tiny. Dean sure would have a laugh at this._ Remembering how much Dean loved to tease Sam about his height after he had finally overtaken him caused a ghost of a smile to cross John's lips. After his little chat with Sammy he couldn't sit still. He took up his usual routine of pacing about the waiting room. In those three hours he swears he must have dug a track into the floor.

Four hours after Dean had been rushed through those double doors, they opened again. An exhausted looking man in generic teal scrubs that were spattered with dried blood came through the doors and worked his way towards the ER waiting area. He wiped the sweat off his brow with his forearm before saying, "I'm looking for the family of Dean Smith."

Doctor Kevin Banks had been working at this hospital for nearly 25 years and liked to think he was a pretty good judge of character. What happened to that young man was one of the worst things he had ever seen and he did not envy telling the family. He quickly eyed the two men that stood up and started walking towards him. They both were covered in blood, and looked deeply concerned. Most of the time he tried not to get too attached to his cases, but for some reason he felt bad for this rag tag family.

Both Sam and John shot up when they heard the doctor say, "I'm looking for the family of Dean Smith." As they approached him, Sam noticed the fatigue in the man eyes, and the fact that he was covered in blood. Dean's blood.

"Are you the family?" Doctor Banks asked wearily.

"Yes, I'm his father, John, and this is his little brother Sam," John replied. He tried to sound calm and collected, but Sam could hear his father's sadness simmering below the surface. "How's Dean? Is he alive?"

Kevin closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He forced a wan smile as he replied, "Yes your son is alive, but okay might be a bit of a stretch. When you brought him in, he had numerous dangerous injuries. The lesser of his injuries were the broken ribs and the broken left leg. However, he did suffer sever laceration to his upper torso, and left leg. The broken ribs managed to puncture one of his lungs, and at some point he slipped into shock. This caused his other lung to fill with fluid, which lead to respiratory arrest. We managed to get him some oxygen so 'm not worried about brain damage, but we'll monitor him closely. He also was bleeding internally due to numerous internal contusions. We managed to get the bleeding controlled. Dean is suffering from sever blood loss, which is nasty on it's own." He took another deep breath and stared at the floor as he said, "we lost your son twice on the table, but we managed to get him back. He's not breathing on his own yet, so we have him on a ventilator."

"Is he going to be alright?" Sam barely recognized his voice as he said this but he needed to hear the answer.

"It's still touch and go but if he makes it trough the next day then he should be. I really am sorry.'

"Can we see him?" That was all that was on John's mind. _I know Dean; he'll be fine. That kid is eight kinds of tough. He's got to be okay. I can't do this without him._

"They're still getting him set up in the ICU but I'll have someone come get you when you can see him."

"Thanks Doc," and with that John sat down. Sam stayed rooted to his spot for a few minutes but eventually he moved and sat down next to John.

Fifteen minutes later a brunette in pink scrubs came into the waiting room and said, "Are you Dean Smith's family?"

"Is he okay?" Those were the first words that escaped Sam's lips.

"He's stable for now. You can both come see him now if you'll follow me.

With that both the Winchester men got up and followed the nurse to the elevator.


	7. Clear!

Hey guys sorry for the mega, excruciatingly long update time. Some major prom drama sort of put my creative juices on hold. I actually had a request for an update so here it comes. Again I own nothing and never will.

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Sam had been through this soul-destroying ritual numerous times, but nothing could have prepared him for seeing Dean like this. Sam had seen way to many dead bodies in his lifetime, and that was how Dean looked; like a dead body. He was so still it was almost painful. His usually tan skin had turned a sickly shade of grey. The spikes of blonde hair, which usually stood straight up, were plastered to Dean's forehead. His whole chest was covered in bandages. Only a fraction of his left leg was visible around the cast. That wasn't even counting the bruises or the ventilator taped across Dean's mouth.

_Is that really Dean? Dean's always so strong, always there to protect. That is defiantly not dean. God it just looks so wrong._ Sam crossed the room and stood by dean's bed. All he could do was stand there and stare at what was left of his big brother. _He's more than just my brother_ He couldn't stop the tears from falling from his eyes as he took dean's hand. _Dean practically raised me. He was everything for me. I can't believe dad let him go off by himself. Then again it's my fault that he's hurt. If I had been there…._

John could feel the guilt rolling off Sam like waves. He watched as Sam cried and took dean's hand. It still felt weird to think of that person lying in the bed as Dean. That didn't look like his smart-ass son. Dean was strong, confident, and ready to take on anything the world threw at him with a smile on his lips and a dirty joke or two. _All right enough of the pity party, I need to focus. Sam is in real trouble. I should help the one son I can. _"Sam there's nothing you could have done kiddo."

"I could have been there dad. I could have been there."

"No kiddo. It's not where Den wanted you to be so we both know you wouldn't have been there."

Sam's head whipped up to his father. In an aggravated and stressed out tone he said, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He may not have said it to your face, but dean was really proud of you. As much as it hurt him, he wanted you at Stanford because he thought you were happy."

Sam glanced down at his unconscious brother with a half smile. _You never stopped looking out for me did you? _"Come on dad, no more chick flick moments." He couldn't stifle the laugh that came with his statement.

Sam's laugh was cut short by the heart monitor as it emitted a frantic tone. It took a few seconds for Sam to register what happened. By that time the monitor said dean was flat lining.

Sam and John stared on in shock as the medical staff rushed in. Someone yelled something about some type of drug. The doctor was charging up the defibrillator as another nurse was pushing air into dean's lungs. Above all these noises, all Sam could hear was the sound of dean's heart not beating.

"All right, clear!" the doctor yelled. Everyone stepped back as he applied the paddles to Dean's chest. His body arched back and his muscles spazmed as the electric current raced through his body. The nurse stepped in and started bagging him again. The doctor watched the heart monitor as Dean flat lined again.

"Okay lets go again. Charging, Clear!" They repeated this process two more times before they got a heartbeat.

"Alright we got him back!" Sam had never heard sweeter words in his life.


	8. Welcome Back

Hey everybody. I'm getting ready to wrap this one up. I'm still working on how I should end this (seriously I have no clue yet). Any suggestions would be much appreciated =). All right, enough of my babbling, let's get to the story. Disclaimer: I own nothing and never will.

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_Previously: "Alright we got him back!" Sam had never heard sweeter words in his life._

Time had lost all meaning. The minutes blended into hours, which faded into days. Nothing mattered but Dean. It had been two days since Sam saw his older brother die. The doctor had said that if Dean made it through the first day then he would be okay; Sam wasn't so sure.

Dean's left leg jutted out in front of him, encased in a thick layer of white plaster. As a joke, Sam managed to find a pink marker and left Dean a funny message on his cast. Dean's chest was wrapped tightly in bandages. Sam didn't want to know what injuries were lurking under those bandages. Plastic tubing forced its way down Dean's throat, and out of almost every part of his body (or so Sam thought). Dean was still unconscious. He was just laying there, not moving. It was really the stillness that was freaking Sam out. _This is just so weird. I honestly don't think I've ever seen Dean sit still outside of a hunt. He's always busy with something. Fixing up the Impala, cleaning the guns, helping Dad (or me) out with the research, or just taking care of me. I wonder if people can actually hear you when they're like that? Maybe it's worth a shot?...._

Sam took a deep breath and just started talking. "He Dean it's Sam. Yeah I'm here. God, it's been so weird in college without you there. I mean you were always there, _always, _not having you there was hard to get used to. I was supposed to have a single room, but I had to switch. It just felt so weird sleeping in a room by myself. I just couldn't do it. I ended up in a brand new room with a roommate. Want to know something weird? When we were deciding which bed was whose, I picked the one farthest away from the door, because the other one was yours. College is awesome though Dean. You would love it; tons of hot girls running around, and some real great people. I met this one guy Dan who is almost exactly like you. It kind of creaped me out at first how similar you guys are. You have to wake up Dean. I really can't do this without you. Please man I'm begging you. You have to wake up."

On stood by the door of the hospital room and just listened to Sam talk. Sam needed t get something to eat, and something to sleep, but john thought Sammy needed this more. He just needed a connection to his brother. They both always have needed each other. Whenever Dean was hurt Sammy couldn't be far out of eyeshot otherwise Dean would get antsy. If dean just was sent out on his own for extended periods of time, regardless of the task, Sam would get very nervous and annoy the hell out of John. Sam just needed Dean now and he would not deny his son that.

Dean had been floating at the bottom of the black oblivion when he thought he heard voices. Well, one voice actually. It was a familiar voice, but he couldn't put his finger on whose voice it was. Dean wanted to go back to his peaceful rest but the voice kept going on and on. _Was it saying something about a college? Wait I can do this. Thinking shouldn't be this hard. Okay who do I know that went to college? Caleb was thinking about it, but he never get around to it. Pastor Jim went to seminary school. Does that count as college? No wait, Sammy goes to college! Sammy? Is it really you? God I've missed you man!_

Dean just had to see if it was really Sam._ Sammy isn't supposed to be here. He's in college. But that sounds just like him…._Dean diverted all his remaining energy to his eyelids and tried to force them open. It was harder than it looked. It felt like his eyelids were glues shut. Eventually he broke down the cement holding his eyes shut and opened them an inch. Everything was fuzzy. He was in a pale room that smelled like antiseptic. _Crap I'm in a hospital aren't I? Fuck, how did I end up here? Oh yeah frickin __Husginkle_ _attacked me. Those things suck ass man._ All of his thoughts stopped as his eyes. Stopped on Sam. At least he thought it was Sam (his vision was still pretty blurry). He couldn't talk for some reason, so settled for awkwardly starring at his brother.

"Dean?" Sam exclaimed upon seeing his brother's eyes open. They floated around the room, hastily taking in everything. Eventually, they rested on Sam. Sam could see his brother struggle o talk. "Hey man don't try and talk all right? Not yet at least. Don't worry man, you're okay. Let me get your doctor."

"Don't worry Sammy, I'll get him. You stay here with dean," John said as he finally walked into Dean's room. He walked up to Dean and ran his hand through Dean's hair. _When he was little this would always calm him down. God, Mary and Dean together like this was always one of my favorite sights._ "Hey kiddo. Don't worry you're going to be okay. I'm going to come right back okay?" He added that last bit as Dean's worried eyes focused on him. He could sense how scared his kid was, so he tried to be brave for Dean. _When was the last time I had to be brave for Dean? These days it's always Dean being brave for Sammy or me_. These thoughts kept John Company as he went to find Dean's doctor.

Dean closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them he stared at his Sammy. He still was having trouble believing he was there.

Sam seemed to sense his brother's discomfort so he squeezed Dean's hand and said, "Don't worry Dean. I'm not going anywhere. You need to get some rest." Before he even finished talking Dean's eyes had shut and Dean had drifted off to sleep.


	9. Breathe

Hey, me again. All I'll skip all this fluff and get right to the story. So like always I won nothing, and never will. Thanks for reading!

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Previously: Before he even finished talking Dean's eyes had shut and Dean had drifted off to sleep.

Sam just sat there next to Dean, running his fingers through Dean's short spiky hair. For some reason this comforting action made him feel better. _Dean is all right, that's all that matters. He's been hurt plenty of times before. I'm sure he'll be okay. It's so weird, and incredibly depressing, to think that I took Dean practically dying for us to brothers again. This is the reason I got out of this life, so I wouldn't have to deal with this kind of shit. It just keeps dragging me back_. John chose that exact moment to come back into the room with the doctor.

"How's he doing Sammy?" John asked with apprehension when he noticed Dean was no longer awake.

"Don't worry Dad. He just fell back asleep."

"That's good. Rest is what he needs right now. It's good that he's conscience though. This means that he's going to be okay. We still need to check his mental awareness, but that can wait. Also this means that we can start weaning him off the ventilator," Dr. Banks chimed in.

"That's great news Doc, thanks again for everything," John said, letting some of the deep gratitude he was feeling for this man seep into his voice. _I can't stand most doctors. All the worry about is covering their own ass so they don't get sued. Although that's just one of the reasons I prefer to patch myself up. This guys okay though._

Banks could see that this man was not used to showing emotions, so he took what he could get. "Either one of the nurses or I will be back to check on Dean in the near future to see how he is progressing. You both should get some sleep as well. Dean is going to be okay. It kind of bothered Sam that the doctor would only say that Dean was going to be "ok" not fine or perfect but he let it go.

Sam was absolutely sure he wasn't going to sleep any time soon. Dawn had broken only a few hours ago, and the pink-grey light was beginning to filter in through the curtains. Sam was determined to be there for Dean. He raised his eyes from his brother's sleeping form, to his father's. He could tell his dad was dead tired, but he seemed to share Sam's resolve.

"You got classes tomorrow Sammy?" John shattered the silence with his seemingly mundane question.

"Dad Dean is more important than my classes and yeah I have a couple of them later in the day. I can skip them though."

"Sam you're going to class. You wanted to go to college that bad so you're going. Besides it's what Dean would want." John said that last part as almost a whisper. He knew it was a low blow but Sam needed to hear it. _Sammy was always to smart for his own good. I already ruined Dean's future. Hell, this kid would have made one hell of a mechanic or whatever he wanted to be. I think he said he wanted to be a fireman? Ah hell, what's the point now? Sam still has a shot; he can still have a life. I know deep down Dean would want Sammy to keep going as well._

"Yeah, okay Dad," Sam said in tired resignation.

"Don't worry kiddo, I'm not leaving him. He'll be okay."

"Yeah dad I know. It's just I miss him and I want to be there for him."

"It's going to be okay Sammy, don't worry."

"Thanks Dad."

The next hour passed in silence, as both the conscience Winchester men were lost in thought. The both were startled when Dr. Banks walked in to check on Dean.

"How's he been?" Kevin Banks could guess, but he wanted to at least try and include the family in Dean's care.

"He hasn't woken up since," Sam replied.

"Alright," he said as he turned towards Dean and lightly grabbed Dean's shoulder. He gave his shoulder a gentle shake as he said, "Dean, my name is Dr. Banks. I need you to try and open you eyes for me."

"John grabbed Dean's opposite hand and also said, 'Hey kiddo, I need you to wake up now okay? Come on I know you can do it. Doc here just needs to give you a good once over, okay?"

Both men were rewarded when Dean's eyelids slid back revealing tired, somewhat focused green eyes. Sam noticed that Dean's eyes didn't have the same spark they usually held. Dean seemed to scoping out the room, trying to get his bearings. John could tell that Dean wasn't entirely comfortable with his surroundings.

"Hey Dean your in the hospital kiddo. I'm right here. Try to relax."

Banks noticed Dean's lips start to twitch as if he was trying to say something. "Dean, don't try and speak, you have a tube down your throat. Now it seems that you should be able to breathe on your own so we'll be able to take it out soon, all right?"

Dean's eyes gave the man a once over and then he gave a short nod to signal he understood before slipping away into the dark abyss.

With that Dr. Banks left the room. That wasn't the last time Sam and John saw him that day. Three hours later, he walked back in with two nurses, and an equipment cart that Sam couldn't identify.

"I've spoken with Dean's other doctors and we've all agreed that we can remove the ventilator now. This is going to be a quick and easy procedure, so if one of you could just wake him up while I get ready we can get this over with," the doctor announced much to Sam's delight.

_Yes! Yes! Dean this is great news! He's going to be okay! Hell, more than okay. He can breathe now, which I guess means everything else will follow._ Sam gave Dean's hand a light squeeze and said, "Dean? I need you to wake up now okay?"

Dean seemed to have an immediate reaction to Sam's voice because no sooner had the words left Sam's mouth had Dean's eyes fluttered open._ Hey Sammy. Damn this tube thing is annoying. Still can't talk. Want to sleep Sammy, let me sleep._

"Dean the doctor is going to take the tube out of your throat then you can go back to sleep okay Dean? You got to sty awake man."

"Alright Dean this is going to be relatively easy okay?" Doctor Banks said as he approached Dean He took off the tape holding the ventilator in place. "Now Dean I need you to take a big breathe in and hold it okay?" Dean gave a nod then did his beast to suck in air around the tube in his throat. "Okay now when I say go, I want you to exhale as I pull the tube out alright? Okay on three. 1…2…3!"

Dean released the meager amount of air he managed to gather into his lungs and Dr. Banks pulled the tube out from his throat. Dean took a shaky breathe in and coughed. Sam didn't notice the tears that lined his eyes.

He also barely noticed a gravely, pain filled voice whisper, "Sammy."


	10. Confidence vs Morphine

All right thanks for sticking with me. This chapter is going to be kind of short and mildly pointless, but necessary (It sort of sets up where I'm going with the ending).

Hey if you wouldn't mind I just posted the first chapter of another fic I'm starting called Frozen. If any of you guys could give it a read, and then give me some helpful reviews it would be much appreciated. I'm trying to decide if I want to take it beyond a one sot or not. I'll shut up now. Okay, The CW owns everything (and I own a pitiful nothing =(

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_Previously: H__e also barely noticed a gravely, pain filled voice whisper, "Sammy."_

"Hey Dean. I'm right here man," Sam crooned back to his injured brother. Dean's glassy eyes were deadlocked on Sam. Deep pain lines were etched in Dean's face, but Dean seemed to have the need to see if Sam was really there.

"You ok?" Dean replied. He was half asleep, and his throat felt like he gargled broken glass, but he needed to make sure that Sam was ok. For some reason something about this situation was really bothering Dean. He tried to shift positions slightly and instantly realized it was a bad idea. _Fuck! Shit, this hurts! Why does this hurt so much? Why am I in the hospital? Hell, why is Sammy here? Isn't he too busy being normal? Kid won't answer my hone calls for the past couple of years, now he's just here? Yeah right. Something's got to be wrong. I don't like this. Got to get out of here. _Dean didn't notice that he was gasping for breath. He was completely oblivious to the fact hat he teetering on the brink of hyperventilation.

"Dean, I'm okay. Hey man, you need to calm down man. You're scaring me here," Sam said in a quiet tone as a nurse put an oxygen mask over Dean face.

"Dean you need to slow down your breathing kiddo. In and out nice and slow," John said trying to calm his oldest down. He knew first hand that hyperventilation could be a big problem. He had seen what it had done to a marine when they were on the battlefield and it hadn't ended pretty. He watched as Dean struggled to listen to him. He started gently stroking his hand through Dean's short hair saying, "That's good kiddo. Yu can do it. In and out. There you go. Keep breathing in and out."

This seemed to do the trick because Dean eventually calmed down. His eyes never left his younger brother. For some reason everything felt okay again. His family was together again. Maybe for good, who knows? Dean hadn't felt like this since Sam left. After he left, something just felt wrong. Dean never could shake that feeling when he slept in a motel room alone, or when he drove alone. It just felt wrong. Not anymore. They were together again. Dean was going to do his best to keep them together now. He wasn't sure if it was confidence, or morphine flowing through his veins, but whatever it was he liked it.


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